Food for Thought
by Jemmiah
Summary: ObiWan's curiousity and hunger get the better of him!


TITLE: Food for thought

By Jemmiah

*********

"Are you sure we should be doing this?" hissed Obi-Wan, furtively looking around the shiny chrome surfaces and polished worktops.

"It was your idea! What do you mean are you sure we should be doing this?" The Togorian's reply came back in the form of an indignant growl, issued by felineoid vocal chords. Padawan Tanni Welasa was an intelligent, loyal individual - but as was so characteristic of his species did not suffer fools gladly. There was no time to argue over who was to blame: all that anyone needed to know was that it was all Obi-Wan's fault! As he ducked beneath a large metal ladle, Tanni cast an annoyed look at his companion.

Kenobi was a good friend, but a little headstrong. It HAD been Obi-Wan's idea to go snooping about the place regardless of what he said - against his master's wishes - but now that they were actually in the thick of things the padawan appeared to have lost all of his nerve, and that irked Tanni tremendously. In his book, you either did a thing wholeheartedly or you did not do it at all. So far, during their early exploration of the darkened room, Obi-Wan had spent a surprising amount of time skulking in the shadows just a few steps behind Tanni's silver striped tail…

Obi-Wan stopped beside what looked like some kind of colander for draining vegetables. 

"It seemed like a good idea at the time." He ventured timidly.

"But now you've remembered what your master will say to you when he finds out you've been sneaking about inspite of all his warnings, yes?" Tanni rumbled, instinctively flexing his claws. He wasn't really in a position to insult Obi-Wan, for there was little doubt that his own master Vernice Ashdal would be every bit as severe on him as Master Jinn would be on his apprentice. "What can I say? Maybe you should have thought of that before you dragged me along for the ride. One of these days Obi-Wan, your penchant for spying will get you into serious trouble…"

"I am NOT spying!" Obi-Wan's voice became heated, and even although the room remained darkened save for the glow of Tanni's green lightsabre, the Togorian could see the disgust radiating from his friend's eyes. "How is this spying? I'm just trying to help everyone! Is it my fault that we arrived on this planet during a week of national fasting?"

Tanni felt his insides begin to rumble at Obi-Wan's timely reminder of their predicament, and willed his innards to compress and stifle the noise. The problem had been exactly as Obi-Wan described: there was no food to be had! Four days of living on ration bars had left Tanni believing that his beautiful coat would start to shed through a combination of stress and lack of nutrition. He was a carnivore! That meant that he had to eat meat at regular intervals or else his body would start to lose its natural abundance of springy energy! He'd even started to wonder what Obi-Wan might taste like with a little bit of seasoning and perhaps a caramelised Papyri fruit stuck in his mouth, surrounded by a bed of wild rice and sea truffles…

"Sorry." He muttered, his whiskers drooping. "You are right, of course. Although I cannot help but feel the jedi council might have advised us as to the situation on this planet! We might have brought more rations with us..."

Obi-Wan nodded, and straightened up, narrowly avoiding hitting his head off a low-hanging frying pan.

"I'm surprised my master hasn't considered this already." He gestured around the eerily empty room. "I've no idea why he was so adamant that we keep to our rooms."

"Well, at least the fasting stops tomorrow." Tanni smiled brightly, his sharp, white fangs reflecting a glowing green from the illumination of his lightsabre. "And then the feasting can begin!"

"We shall both have starved by that time." Obi-Wan grimaced, placing a hand against his tightened stomach muscles. He'd tried meditating like his master had suggested - and it had worked for a time. Now, however, with the time of the feasting so nearly upon them, Obi-Wan began to feel his control staring to wane, and Tanni appeared little better. "I find it curious that an entire planet would willingly stop eating for an entire week. I admire it tremendously, because I'm not certain that I could find the same devotion in myself to follow it through."

"Food-addict!" Grinned Tanni, sniffing the air for any trace of edible substances.

"I feel as guilty as you do about this," continued Obi-Wan defensively, "but I don't see why we should necessarily follow the same practices as everyone else on the planet."

"When on Corellia, do as the Corellians do…" Tanni supplied, holding out a paw-like hand to keep Obi-Wan from going any further. Both padawans stopped in their tracks, listening to the gentle hiss coming from the far end of the darkened kitchen, accompanied by a gentle rocking of pans on top of a fully heated hob. Tanni sniffed, trying to get an idea of what exactly might be cooking, and whether it was something they could possibly eat.

"Why leave the food unattended like that?" Obi-Wan frowned, craning his head over to where the stove was. "Won't it spoil and burn?"

"Maybe it's something that needs to be prepared for a long time," Tanni shrugged, not particular adept when it came to culinary knowledge. He was far happier eating food than he was cooking it, "Or the chefs will check on its progress every so often so that there is no disintegrations." The Togorian frowned for a moment, before snapping his fur-covered fingers together. "It will be part of the feast tomorrow!"

"I think we should sample it and see if it's fit to be included in tomorrow's feast, don't you?" Obi-Wan shot Tanni a boyish smile, and suddenly stepped to the fore of the foraging party. "And perhaps we'd better be quick about it, otherwise my master will get back and demand to know where we have been at this time of evening. Not to mention the fact that he's going to be seriously annoyed at having been kept up with last minute crisis talks…"

As Obi-Wan hastened towards the bubbling pans, ignoring the smack he received between his eyes by a Corellian-style egg whisk, he turned over the situation within his mind. Right from the word go his master had not seemed keen on the mission, although Obi-Wan wondered in hindsight if that had more to do with any pre-knowledge of that week's fasting than any discomfort he might feel when dealing with political talks wrapped up in thinly veiled religious debates. Qui-Gon had always felt that religion was such a deeply personal thing that he had little right to intrude or inflict his opinions on other people, and it made walking the fine line of diplomacy all the more uncomfortable. Obi-Wan could understand why.

"I know," Kenobi turned to Tanni, half facing the towering Togorian and half inclined towards the stove, "that the political situation right now is a little sticky but even so, I think there's little to fear. They have no reason to want to disrupt their negotiations by harming us. Qui-Gon's just being overcautious this time; I don't sense any danger at all…"

Tanni, who was examining his reflection in the base of a large soup pan, could hardly make out Obi-Wan's last words due to what seemed like some kind of whizzing explosion not far behind him, like a cross between the noise of a blaster and a firecracker. Flattening his ears down by the side of his head, Tanni winced as the sound shrilled through his body, making the fur on his spine and neck stand clear inches up from his skin. A mere split second later and he was on the floor, flattening himself as low to the ground as he could get. Who would be shooting at them in the kitchen?!? And more to the point: why?

Using a combination of his superior nasal power and the force, Tanni swiftly ascertained there was nobody else inside the dingy kitchen except for Obi-Wan and himself. Whoever the would-be assassin was, they had gone; which seemed to Tanni exactly the best course of action that he and Obi-Wan could take! Still, it paid to be cautious, and the feline made himself wait a further half-minute on the ground, lightsabre ready by his side should he need to use it.

Nothing further occurred.

"So much for saying that there was no danger!" Hissed Tanni, scoring the floor slightly with his claws whilst he pushed himself up with typical cat-like poise and grace. "You and your big mouth! Now you know why Qui-Gon is a master and you are a padawan…"

Obi-Wan offered only a strangulated groan by way of reply, and when Tanni turned around it was to see his fellow padawan curled up on the ground in a foetal position, clutching a hand against his lower ribs…or was it his stomach? In the dark it was difficult to tell. 

"My friend," Tanni's eyes flew wide open as he raced over to his side, "what has happened? Are you hurt? Speak to me!"

Again, all Obi-Wan seemed capable of doing was moaning incoherently, and when Tanni reactivated his sabre to get a clearer look under the light he could see that his friend's eyes were glazed over with pain. Had his lips changed colour too, Tanni wondered desperately? The Togorian's padded fingers went to the spot just bellow Obi-Wan's ribs, seeking a way past the hands that clung for dear life, as if trying to stop his body from shattering. When Tanni's fingers came into contact with hot, seeping liquid that appeared red even under the green light he knew that Obi-Wan was in a lot more trouble than he'd first imagined…

"Stay calm." Tanni commanded more to himself than to his ailing friend. "I'm going to get you out of here and back to our room. My master will be able to help: she's sure to be there." Shouldering off his robe and then balling it against the wound, Tanni hoisted the senseless Obi-Wan to his feet and slung his arm around him, half-dragging and half carrying the padawan with the force whilst attempting to hold the makeshift tourniquet in place. Aware of the need for haste, and without his lightsabre to shine the way ahead, Tanni's cat like eyes made out as much as they could by way of obstacles in their path. Still he somehow managed to crash into virtually every cooking utensil and upsetting what appeared to be several barrels along the way. Cutlery was sent flying across the room, and the cat-like creature had the vaguest impression that they did not leave the kitchen in the spotless manner in which they had found it…

Tanni supposed that it wasn't every day on visiting a kitchen that you were shot by a blaster, but he'd just known that Obi-Wan's idea would turn out to be a bad one. Oh, yes he had!

"Next time," the feline mewled breathlessly, "we stick to rations and water, okay?"

***********

"…And I trust that this satisfactorily concludes the discussions for the present." Qui-Gon examined the sea of stony-faced delegates on either side of him, pretty certain that if appearances were anything to go by then satisfaction was the word least appropriate for that moment. The pause was lengthy and telling, broken only by the noise of a chair being pushed backwards as one of the delegates stood up to reluctantly shake his hand. Force, even the chair's squeal sounded disapproving!

"Concluded, certainly." The man bowed politely after releasing the Jedi's grip. "It is the best we can hope for, and something that both factions can work with, I'm sure."

"Well, that is for you to act on." Qui-Gon gave a tight little smile in reply. "I believe my work here is done, gentlemen and ladies. Unless there is anything further you would like me to resolve whilst I am here." It had been a slightly flippant remark and the tall master chided himself for it the moment the words had left his lips, but far from being offended, they actually looked at one another as if trying to consider which minor, petty squabbles they could have him look at! Jinn felt like hanging his head back and groaning…all he wanted to do was go back to his rooms and meditate his hunger away.

"Well, master jedi…" A raven-haired woman of middle age stepped forward. "As you and your friends have been of such help in this dispute we wondered if you would do us the honour of joining us in the feast tomorrow. Our way of thanking you for all you have done…"

Qui-Gon considered for a minute. It was certainly tempting, and he could almost certainly vouch for Obi-Wan and probably Tanni Welasa as well. Yet he was almost certain that the council would want to see them back as soon as possible to give their report and, if they were desperately unlucky, send them on another mission straight away. Besides, it didn't feel right intruding on somebody else's private party. Celebrations tended to make him uneasy at the best of times…

"That is most kind," Qui-Gon answered in a much less brusque and formal tone, "but I think that we had best be heading back to Coruscant first thing in the morning. All we require is to find some supplies and then…"

"No supplies." A giant worm-like creature replied through the aid of a basic translator unit, shaking it's segmented neck back and forth with much regret. "Very sorry for this. But it is the feast time. All supplies gone. Everything shut. Nothing else. All used up."

Qui-Gon looked from the worm to the humanoid male who had shaken his hand, looking for confirmation of what had just been said.

"It's true," he sighed, "and it is most unfortunate, but the traditions on this planet are ancient. We fast for a week and then we feast for a week. It is the same every year. Everyone buys their supplies in the week before the fast takes place. You will be hard pressed to find any supplies now. All the market places will be dead."

It irked him to linger pointlessly when they might be needed elsewhere, but Qui-Gon knew that they couldn't last indefinitely on ration bars and sterile water. They could eat happily enough tomorrow and after they had taken their fill perhaps harvest some of the non-perishable food and take it back with them to their ship. If not, the alternative was to find themselves eating one another on the long journey back…

"In that case we would be honoured to remain for the feast." Qui-Gon inclined his head, concurring with the suggestion. It was dark now, and from out the window he could just about make out the light from the rooms he shared with his padawan. He was unhappy to note that they had been left on, which meant that Obi-Wan was not asleep like he should have been. Just for a moment he wondered what was happening back at the temple, and what time it might be there or if Jemmiah was similarly awake when she shouldn't be. At least this time there would be no Sal-Fina to look after her, and he was certain that the Corellian child would do very well in the care of crèche master Evla Sovalla.

//I never thought I would feel tied to Coruscant again after Xanatos.// mused the master as he took his leave of the delegates in the room, striding towards the doorway. //But now it does feel like a home of sorts and there are special people in my life once more…//

One of those special people was out of bed, prowling around when he shouldn't! Qui-Gon could sense it, and the unease that followed that particular revelation. Not only did the force warn him to be alert but also there was something else too…pain? He was certain he could feel suffering through the bond he shared with his padawan. 

When the comlink in his pocket chirped, Qui-Gon knew that something very bad had happened.

"Jinn." He replied gruffly, holding the com to his mouth.

"Qui-Gon, it's Vernice here…" she sounded somewhat breathless, almost afraid. "Get back to our rooms as soon as you can. There's been some trouble…I'm afraid it's Obi-Wan."

"What's happened?" Demanded Qui-Gon abruptly. "Is he alright?"

"Qui…he's received what looks like a blaster wound to the stomach. Tanni just brought him in…apparently they were down in the kitchens trying to find something to snack on and someone was lying in waiting…and fired at them."

Qui-Gon's throat tightened instantly. His first reaction was to ask what in the name of the force they were doing in the kitchens when he'd specifically told them NOT to go wandering around anywhere. He should have taken Obi-Wan with him to the last of the talks but the delegates had not seemed impressed with the presence of a teenage boy, nor yet a youthful felineoid. It hadn't even been Vernice or Tanni's mission, and so it had fallen to himself to see it through to the bitter end. 

Why hadn't that apprentice of his listened?!? Did Obi-Wan think he liked talking for the sake of hearing his own voice?

"Bad?" Was about all that Qui-Gon could get out.

"It's very messy…he keeps trying to push me away, and his lips are blue as if he can't get a proper breath." Vernice paused, wondering if she should spare him any further details. "Qui, just get here soon. I'll send for some help…"

Qui-Gon wondered for a moment if he should use the force to accentuate his speed, but knew that through the busy streets that might look more than a little odd. Switching off the com, he turned on his heels and fled across the cobbled square, past the elegant line of arcing fountains and sprays, hoping that when he got back to his rooms that all would not be as black as Vernice was painting.

********

"Tanni, this wound's very strange." Vernice frowned; able to get a closer look at the patient after he had slowly began to calm down a little. As she tried to undo his tunic Obi-Wan gave a tiny whimper of protest, but Vernice noticed that the glazed look had almost left his eyes completely, and his lips were far less asphyxiated in appearance than before. "I can see the blood on his tunic, yet…" Cold fingers against his bare, exposed skin caused Obi-Wan to gasp, "There's no wound at all underneath!"

"Fingers…cold." Complained Obi-Wan wheezily, disliking the way that Vernice was staring at his semi-naked body. All around him he could see red ooze, stark against the pale cream of his open tunic, like gore spilled amongst snow. Was that from him? All that? But how…

"Does it hurt?" Vernice let her hands hover above the area of skin that Obi-Wan had been hiding, seeing what appeared to be a large, discoloured bruise forming, the edges already mottled and dark.

Obi-Wan screwed up his face and nodded.

"You're bruised, padawan Kenobi." Vernice diagnosed with some relief. "Bruised and winded by the look of things. Something's hit you at great speed and bounced off. Something that's been quite hot, judging by light scald marks on your body. I think your tunic's prevented the worst of the damage."

"So he's not going to die?" Tanni heaved a huge sigh of relief. "Thank the force! But, I do not understand what happened! I heard an explosion like a blaster shot!"

Vernice lowered her face right next to Obi-Wan's tunic, and the padawan attempted to get out of the reach of the crazy jedi female, her breath tickling against his skin.

"Take a sniff, Tanni." She invited her padawan to join in.

"I'd rather not if it's all the same. I have no wish to sniff at Obi-Wan. Few that I know do."

The female jedi nodded as if in private recognition of some fact, her eyes taking on a crafty look.

"Berry sauce." She stated factually.

"Eh?"

"This is blood-berry sauce! It looks exactly look humanoid blood…when you cut the fruit open it looks exactly like the real thing! When it gets too hot it explodes - that must have been what you heard, padawan. My guess is," Vernice tried herself to stop herself from chuckling at Obi-Wan's disgrace, "that when you were snooping about in the kitchens the container must have exploded and struck Obi-Wan hard beneath the ribs, spilling the sauce all over his tunic."

Obi-Wan stared at her in disbelief, then placed a shaky finger against the claggy red gloop and, studying it for a moment, placed it inside his mouth.

"It's very good!" He managed to pronounce after some small amount of time had passed, still feeling weak and wobbly as a result of the blow he'd received to his person. "Want some?"

Vernice rolled her eyes, although she was fairly certain that Tanni was seriously giving the idea some thought. In truth she felt excruciatingly uncomfortable with what had happened. She'd not panicked exactly: no self respecting jedi master ever should. The truth was however that she had given Qui-Gon the false impression that his headstrong padawan was more or less at death's door, when she shouldn't have said anything until she'd examined the situation thoroughly. Now Qui-Gon was going to think she was the chief of idiots, with Tanni and in particular Obi-Wan her idiot minions. As if things weren't complicated enough as it was…

Seconds later on his appearance, Qui-Gon didn't so much knock on the door as hammer it down.

"Where is he?" The master demanded, catching sight of what looked like a pair of jedi socks sticking up from over the edge of the sofa, quickly deducing that it was his padawan. "How serious is it? Did you call for help?"

Vernice eyed Tanni, saying nothing, keeping well out of the way.

Qui-Gon's eyes fell upon his broken and apparently bleeding apprentice with horror, taking in the red soaked fabric of his crushed tunic, the stains spreading from about halfway up to almost entirely encompass one side of his body. For a moment he stood speechless, unable to think of a thing to say, yet a detached part of him remained aware that Vernice and Tanni were not behaving in the way that one would expect given the circumstances. There was no checking of the window for sign of an air ambulance, nor was there any anxious activity whatsoever, save for a nervous shuffling from foot to foot. Even before he could ask what was wrong, somehow - he didn't know how - the force told him the emergency was perhaps not as urgent as it had been initially. Yet Obi-Wan looked frightened, pale and breathless. 

What was going on?

"Padawan, can you speak to me?" Qui-Gon looked Obi-Wan up and down for the source of all the bleeding, and, much to his puzzlement, found absolutely nothing. 

"Yes, master." Obi-Wan nodded solemnly.

"Keep calm - you're going to be fine." Qui-Gon's frown grew bigger yet, even as his voice became softer, gentler than Obi-Wan had heard it for a long time. The padawan followed Qui-Gon's puzzled look, aimed at Vernice, as if seeking verification of what was wrong. The boy, although in some small distress, did not actually seem terribly unwell! "Master Ashdal, did you send for assistance?"

"I sent for the twenty four hour emergency grocers." Replied Vernice with a tiny shrug of her shoulders, humbled at the sight of Qui-Gon's concern for Obi-Wan. "Your padawan appears to be bleeding neat berry sauce."

"I'm sorry?" Qui-Gon blinked back at her.

Vernice finally allowed herself to look Qui-Gon fully in the eye.

"To use modern terminology - I goofed!" Vernice admitted, chewing down hard against her lip. "I'm sorry I made you run all that way for nothing, Qui-Gon. I know you're not as young as you once were…it's just that when Tanni and I saw Obi-Wan all covered in red like that, clutching his side in agony, it appeared at first glance that he had been badly wounded. Tanni reported hearing a blaster shot whilst they were in the kitchens, but my guess is they were preparing blood-berry sauce and the canister blew up and hit your padawan, leaving him in the state you now see him in."

All that worry. All that rush…the internal battle to steady his nerves, wondering what sight might await him when he got back, hoping that his padawan would not be badly hurt. The amount of pain that Qui-Gon felt had surprised him; usually he liked to bury his feelings so that they could not betray him. Xanatos had taught him a valuable lesson the day he had turned against him and fled the order. Now it seemed that Obi-Wan and the likes of Jemmiah and Rela were teaching him a new lesson, but one that was no less painful for all that.

Relief gave way to controlled annoyance. 

"I thought I told you to stay in your rooms?" Qui-Gon's voice changed in that moment from compassionate to chilly at best, even although Obi-Wan could clearly see that the worry had left its mark on his face, and appreciated precisely why he was being told off. "When will you learn to heed my words?"

"We were hungry, Master Jinn." Tanni meowed and hung his head shamefully.

"The kitchens were out of bounds because they are preparing for this feast tomorrow - to which I might add we had been invited. I'm in half a mind to leave anyway just to teach you both a valuable lesson! When they find out that you two were sneaking around inside their kitchens getting up to force knows what mischief I should think that we'll be lucky to get so much as an egg-roll and a packet of Takkini chips!"

"Sorry Master Jinn." Tanni's head drooped even further. "But I do not think that we were spotted. The damage that we left behind was minimal…"

Vernice raised her head suddenly as if aware of some kind of disturbance, tilting her head to one side so that she might hear better, a habit she had picked up from her padawan. Yes, there had definitely been something…muffled shouting, she had thought, and a flurry of boots heading towards the direction of their room. She caught Qui-Gon's eye, seeing similar bafflement therein.

"Did you hear something?"

"Yes, I heard someone shouting some kind of instructions." Qui-Gon straightened up, preparing to walk back towards the door and see what he could discover. It sounded like some kind of hullabaloo going on outside, making its way towards their rooms…and the noise of loud thumping on the door opposite.

"Evacuate the building!" One of the staff shouted, his voice clearly audible from the other side of the door. More hurried stampeding of feet ensued, followed shortly by yet a further cry: "The kitchen's on fire! Everybody out!"

Then the warning siren went off.

"I guess I'll go pack the ration bars, shall I?" Vernice asked dryly with a single, raised eyebrow.

"You realise what this means, don't you?" Qui-Gon stared coolly down at his padawan, fidgeting against the cushions on which he'd been so reverently placed.

"No food to take with us on the journey back?" Hazarded Obi-Wan, swallowing back a certain amount of guilt.

"Correct."

"Oh, well." Obi-Wan tried to hide his humiliation with a fake smile, wiping at the berry sauce against his tunic with one finger and holding it out to anyone who might want to try some. "It looks like dinner's on me…"


End file.
